


Home is Where You Are

by loyalbloggerwhoshoots



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Morstrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyalbloggerwhoshoots/pseuds/loyalbloggerwhoshoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of these ficlets are in their own universes, but I wanted to have them in one place, as much as I could manage it. Morstrade - or Greg Lestrade and Sebastian Moran - is my OTP ship of all of these in this series, and I worked on all of them with my platonic life partner Jude, who doesn't have an account here, or an active RP blog. But it is because of him that I have so much love for this ship, and why it won't ever die in my heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family Time in the Snow

> **Snow:**  Our characters in the cold together

Snow splattered on the back of Sebastian’s coat, and he turned to grin at his husband, and he tossed his own snowball at his husband, as he guarded Emily Rose’s giggling body from the onslaught of snowballs. He gloried in the grin on Greg’s face, and the bright red of his cheeks. “C’mon darlin’, let’s get daddy! G’on, throw ‘em like I taught you!” he goaded Emily Rose, who grinned up at him as she shrieked and ran at Greg, tossing half packed snowballs at her dad’s face, and managing to get snow down his jacket collar. “Oh I’ll get you for that, you little prat,” Greg growled, and made a dash for the two of them. Emily Rose darted, and Greg missed her, but tackled Sebastian to the ground, burying them in a snow drift. Sebastian grinned wider up at him, and pressed a heated kiss to his lips, while they were covered by the snow. 

He kissed him lingeringly, his hand wrapped around his neck. “Ewwwwwwww!” cried Emily Rose, one of the few phrases she’d picked up quite quickly, before Greg and Sebastian had become more careful kissing in front of her. They both chuckled and sat up, and Sebastian reached out to grab her wrist and she cried out a laugh as he pulled her to sit between them, and they both started to tickle her wriggling body. “Daddy, Daddy, no stop, ahhhh!” she giggled, pushing at her father’s arms futilely. Greg grinned down at her, and pulled close to him, kissing the top of her head. “You sure you want us to stop, Em?” She nodded, and then shook her head no, grinning up at him as she leapt up to wrap her arms around Greg’s neck, as Sebastian smiled at the both of him.

He never realised how much he’d wanted something like this until this moment of pride in his family.


	2. It was a Dark and Stormy Night...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Brotide - The low rumbling of distant thunder. Candles -Our characters enjoying a moment by candlelight.

#  _Boom!_

> Little arms wrapped around his middle with a small cry and Greg couldn’t help but smile a little. The power had just gone out, and Bastian was in the kitchen, rooting through the pantry to look for candles. Greg was sitting on the edge of Emily-Rose’s bed, book in hand, having just opened it to read out oud to his daughter before bed when the lights went out.
> 
> “Just a bit of noise, Em.” Greg said assuringly, running a gentle hand through her hair, brushing some strands behind her ear.
> 
> Em answered him, but her voice was muffled by Greg’s shirt. She pulled back, her bright blue eyes looking up at her father. “It’s scary. It was big, huge noise and it shook the house!” She exclaimed, clinging tight to Greg.
> 
> “Remember the flash of light before it?” Greg asked. Em nodded. “The boom was several seconds afterwards, that means the storn is far off. Nothing to worry about, alright?”
> 
> Before she could answer, Bastian came in with a couple of candles, his expression a little crestfallen. “This is all I could find. We were never really fans of candles, eh, love?” He set two candles on Em’s bedside table, lighteing them with a lighter swiftly. He then turned the Em and Greg, eyebrow raised. “You two aren’t  _scared_ , are you?”
> 
> “Just a little, right, Em?”
> 
> “Don’t tell Papa that!” Em shouted, moving away from Greg to sit up and pout slightly. “M’not scared, Papa! Daddy is!”
> 
> “Is he? Just a bit of noise, love.” Bastian said with a knowing grin.
> 
> Greg huffed. “Alright, no picking on Daddy you two.” Greg shifted and lifted the blanets so Em could crawl underneath and Greg could tuck her in. Bastian leaned down and brushed his lips to his daughters forehead before straightening back up in preperation to leave. “Not staying for Harry Potter, then?” Greg asked, lifting the book.
> 
> “Oh, Papa, please? Please stay. Harry’s about to go to Diagon Alley with Hagrid to buy his things for school!” Em squeeked, pushing her pillows up to sit up against them, giving Bastian her best pleading gaze.
> 
> Bastian sighed, putting his hands upon his hips. “Alright. Alright. But using that face against me is cheating, darlin’.” He sat down on the bed and settled back against the pillows beside Em, pulling her close and giving Greg an encouraging smile.
> 
> Greg cracked opened the book, giving his daughter and his husband a smile before clearing his throat and starting. “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Chapter Five: Diagon Alley. Harry woke up early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. ‘It was a dream,’ he told himself firmly. ‘I had a dream that a giant named Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes, I’ll be at home in my cupboard.’ There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.”
> 
> Later, once Greg had finished the chapter and closed the book, the pouting face that Em had gotten into the habit of using appeared on her face. “I wish I was going to Hogwarts.” She muttered. “Harry’s so lucky.”
> 
> “Mmh, I think you’re luckier. You got us.” Bastian said, poking her nose. “And if you went to Hogwarts, you’d be gone for months and months and we’d miss you.”
> 
> Em stopped at that and looked thoughtful a moment. “Mm. Well, if I was a wizard, I’d  _have_  to go to school to learn magic. I wouldn’t want to be Harry, though.”
> 
> “You’d be a witch.” Greg corrected, putting the book on the bedside table, a ways away from the candles.
> 
> Bastian was grinning again and he leaned in close to Emily Rose so he could whisper. “Ah, yeah, see, your dad is a big fan of these books. Any questions you have, go to him, yeah?” He pecked Em’s cheek and lifted himself off her bed.
> 
> Greg just smiled and he leaned over, re-tucking Em in as she slunk back down under the covers. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.” Greg blew the candles out and he and Bastian made for the door, turning to look at Em and smile as Bas closed the door behind them, leaving it open a crack.

 


	3. Mornin', darlin'.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia: I’ll write my/your character waking the other up by sex. 
> 
> It's Sebastian and Greg's honeymoon, and they are celebrating it properly.

The sunlight streamed in weakly through the bedroom window, and Sebastian was hard pressed to get up and get the breakfast he’d promised himself to get Greg for their first married morning together. He’d made sure the tenants had filled the pantry before they’d left, but Greg simply looked too delicious to leave alone in their marital bed for that long, even if it was just pancakes and fruit. He smiled lazily down at his lover turned husband, and leaned forward to nuzzle just under his ear, his lips brushing down the back of his neck as he pulled Greg back against him, his arse coming to rest between Sebastian’s thighs. They had made love several times during the night, but Sebastian had found since day one that he couldn’t get enough of Greg, and Greg seemed to agree - and what’s more, he couldn’t get enough of Greg in total, much less his body. There was something that had drawn them together, and even that morning he still wasn’t completely sure what it was.

Greg began to stir against him, curling closer to Sebastian’s warmth as Sebastian continued to kiss and lick a few of the marks he’d given to Greg during the night previous, but he didn’t moan until Sebastian sucked at the bruise in the groove of Greg’s neck where it met his shoulder. He was hardening as Greg stirred beside him, and he couldn’t help teasing him by sliding his half-hard cock between his cheeks. “Fuck me, Bastian, if you’re gonna just fucking tease me,” Greg sighed, his mouth finally awake enough to speak, and Sebastian backed away to get the lube and do exactly that. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled a few times, getting himself slick and hard before he slid his hand between Greg’s arse cheeks. “I couldn’t let y’go unfucked this mornin’,” he murmured, pressing two fingers into him, earning a low groan from Greg, whose hands fisted into the blanket that was still covering them. “Course you couldn’t. I sw-wear, Bastian,” he hissed, as Sebastian found his abused prostate and pressed downwards. “P-please fuck me.”

Without another word, Sebastian moved his hand from Greg’s arse and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him back onto his cock and he buried his face against Greg’s shoulder as he thrust into him until he was seated. Spooning, they fucked, Sebastian holding Greg against him, and Greg moaning Sebastian’s name and pressing back against him. It started slow, but built quickly, until all one could here was the panting and the slap of lubed skin on more skin. Sebastian’s free hand curled around Greg’s cock and started to stroke him in rhythm with his thrusts, and it didn’t take much for him to cum, calling Sebastian’s name as his hand worked him through it. Sebastian was done in a few moments, pulling out to streak Greg’s back, since he hadn’t thought to grab a condom before fucking his husband. He pressed a lazy kiss to Greg’s hair, and then curled around him. 

"Mornin’. Your second breakfast will happen shortly," he murmured, but Greg was already falling asleep again, a well sexed smile on his face.


	4. Chez Blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was written by my platonic life partner, Jude, as a gift for me and Sebastian.

It had been Emily Rose’s idea. Of course it had been, seeing as even when Sebastian had had a childhood, he’d been more of a slingshots, tide pools, and tree branches type of child. So when he’d forgotten to put away the pile of pillows and blanket from his and Greg’s night on the sofa - just something to mix things up - he hadn’t thought much about it. Not until he’d heard the scrape of one of the heavy dining room chairs, and turned to see Emily Rose struggling to push the chair over to the sofa. “Baby girl, what’re you doin’?” he asked from the kitchen where he was working on dinner. “Building a house.” “You’ve already got a house, baby,” Sebastian had grinned. “I know. But I want my own house to sleep in,” said Emily Rose sensibly, finally succeeding in putting the chair where it needed to go. “Daddy, come help me!” she called, and he set down the knife, unable to say no to their daughter.

When he found her, she was struggling to throw the blanket over the chair, so he lifted in from her hands and draped it over the side, and after a thought, put the other edge over the sofa. “Daddy, another chair! Bigger, bigger!” she crowed, and ducked under the blanket to start decorating. Under orders from his 6 year old, Sebastian brought over two more of the dining chairs and put them under the blanket. Now the tent was big enough that even he could fit under it. He got down on his knees and peeks in, seeing that Emily had laid out two blankets on the floor and was placing over a dozen pillows around. She must’ve been collecting them since she returned home from school. “Am I allowed in then, Em? Or is this just your house?” he asked, waiting patiently. She turned to look at him, and then her face lit up. “No, silly Daddy - this is for all of us! But Papa will be late for supper, so we must tidy up the house,” she told him, her face sobering.

Calmly, she showed him what to put where, and that was how Greg found them when he arrived a little over an hour later. He could hear Sebastian’s voice muffled under the blanket, and set his briefcase down before kneeling down to find the entrance. He found the opening, and just sat there, watching his husband read to their little girl, the story of the Pevensies in the Beavers’ dam in Narnia. When Sebastian finished the chapter, he cleared his throat, and smiled brightly as Emily Rose crawled over to him and into his lap. “Papa, look what Daddy helped me build!”


	5. Greg is a Klutz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lalochezia - The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain

“Fuck!" Came the anguished cry shortly following after an audible thump. More thumps followed along with more cursing and Greg stumbled down the stairs, limbing and still swearing, now under his breath.

Bastian looked at him from his current position in front of the oven then glaced out the window over the sink, seeing Emily Rose out where she wouldn’t have heard the profanities. Then he turned back to Greg. “What happened t’you, love?”

At first, Greg didn’t answer, just grumbled past to the freezer where he rummaged around and grabbed a pack of frozen peas, hobbling to the kitchen table and plopped down, glaring at everything. He brough his foot up carefully, where Bas could see it changing colours quite clearly. “Smashed it on the bloody doorway of the studio.” He muttered, still giving a glare at his toes that were rapidly turning purple, applying the cold peas and hissing as he moved them.

Bastian came over and moved the peas a moment to inspect Greg’s toes. “Are you sure they aren’t broken?” He asked, letting Greg put the bag of peas back onto his toes, eliciting another curse.

"No— most of the pain is from the nails. I smashed them mostly.” Greg said, resting his chin on his raised knee. “Fucking hell.” He murmured, moving the peas once again to inspect the injured toes. “Yeah, see, look at my pinky toe.” He said, pointing. “That nail is definitely going to fall off. Actually— shit, it’s bleeding. Can you get the medkit?” He asked, looking up at Bastian with a pathetic look.

Bastian made a face. “Just stop cursing, Mr. Watch-Your-Language-Around-Em.” He gave Greg a knowing look, then reached into the cupboard above the stove and pulling down a small medical kit.

"Since when do we have one in the kitchen?"

"Since you almost chopped off your finger peelin’ potatoes. Now c’mere and let me fix you up."


	6. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia: I’ll write my/your character waking the other up by sex

Six times… Six times, they’d consummated their marriage, just in one night, and Sebastian still hadn’t had enough of his husband’s body, even though they’d been shagging since day one. But the exhilaration of having Greg completely and wholly his was something that Sebastian knew he’d never get tired of, even as the morning light streamed over his face, and over the tan expanse of his husband’s back. Sebastian grinned and turned over to trace the freckles on Greg’s back, and kiss the space between his shoulder blades, slowly, carefully, and then he rested his face against Greg’s back to listen to the slow steady sleepy heartbeat deep inside his chest, and grinned wider as he felt himself rise and fall with his breaths.

After a moment, Greg sighed softly, and his body shifted under Sebastian’s, and then he groaned. “You can’t possibly want to go again, you fucker,” he muttered into the pillow, which caused Sebastian to chuckle into his blanket warmed skin and nipped at his shoulder blade before replying. “You wouldn’t mind that much.. And fuck knows you’ve let me know how much you love mornin’ sex,” he murmured, moving up to his husband’s ear to lick and suck at the skin there, his hands slipping down to hold his hips and his quickly hardening cock pressed between their thighs. One of his hands turned him, and his other hand pressed them together, coming to the front to grip his barely hard cock, his face buried in his neck. He settled himself between his arse cheeks, and then focused on stroking Greg’s cock into hardness, taking his time as he did so, placing dozens of barely there kisses on his neck and shoulder, as Greg groaned, thrusting slightly into his hand. “‘Bastian you are going to fucking kill me,” he muttered, rolling his hips against his husband’s, as Sebastian’s hand worked him over. “As long as I’m the only one t’kill you, I’ll be fine,” muttered Sebastian, twisting his wrist and with it, Greg’s foreskin slid over the crown of his cock, and Greg stiffened against him, his hips stuttering against his. Sebastian slowed his strokes, nuzzling his neck, and rutted a little between his cheeks as he waited for Greg’s body to relax again. 

Soon enough, Greg was whimpering and pressing up against Sebastian’s hand again, and Sebastian began to stroke him again, matching his strokes for thrusts, as they moved quickly towards yet another orgasm. Greg’s hand was fisted in the pillow, and as he got closer and closer, his knuckles whitened with the effort, and he hissed Sebastian’s name in warning before he spilled over his hand, shooting out over the duvet. Within a few more thrusts between his cheeks, Sebastian was coming onto his husband’s back, and as he pulled him closer into him, he felt Greg sigh. “I love you, you fucker,” he muttered, and Sebastian kissed him again behind the ear. “Love you more, Greg… Always fuckin’ more.”


	7. Truth and a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian breaks the truth to Greg

> _**Truth** _

  
I love you. I never thought that was possible, for me t’love someone, and not just that, but for me t’be loved.

I would die for you, but I would also kill for you.

I know you would hate what I have been, and what I could become, but if it makes you safe, keeps you secure, I will do it.

> _**Break** _

I got a job… 

It pays well, and that’s all I’d told you till now.

But I couldn’t tell you that the last three homicides you got called on, I was responsible for. When you were tellin’ me how disgusted you were, how you couldn’t believe it.. When I held you steady as you threw up in the loo that night, you were talkin’ about my handiwork.

The food you ate the next morning? Was paid for with blood money.

I know you’ll want t’kill me now, want to take me in and have me sentenced t’life… I’m not proud of it. But I … I like it, the kill. 

I’m not askin’ you t’love my dark side. 

I want you to leave me. T’be happy wi’ someone else.

There is someone out there more worthy of you. I know it.

_[Sebastian finished writing the letter, and considered signing it, putting it on his pillow before he took off running again, but instead, he tore the paper, and walked over to put it in the shredder, his hand fisted at his side]_


	8. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marry: My character will propose to yours.  
> [Personal note, this is one of my favorite pieces I have ever written in my life, and to this day still makes me cry inside.]

It was like his hands couldn’t stop fidgeting with the small velvet box he was carrying - he kept flipping it open and closed, as if making sure the ring was still there. The ring he’d painstakingly picked out, after several hours trying to find the exact right one. In the end, he’d found it in a pawn shop, in a sketchy area of town. He’d found it in a box of motorcycle parts, and the man at the shop had told him its story - made from melted down bullets by a man who was going to propose to his lover when he got home from the war in the 40s… It had struck him deeply, having been a soldier, not that he’d told Greg all that much about his past. Only the necessary parts. 

And now, he was waiting at the Italian restaurant Greg had taken him on their first legitimate date, the first one out in public that hadn’t involved payment at the end of their session. It was the best place, since proposing to him in bed had seemed a little.. well. Not them. 

He’d never wanted to marry someone. He’d never thought someone would love him in the first place, but Greg.. Greg was so different. He’d changed Sebastian’s entire perspective on life and now.. Well, Sebastian wanted to return the favour at least a little bit. 

He heard a clearing of the throat to his right, and turned to see the matire’d   looking down at him. “Your dinner partner has arrived. Should I bring him over?” Sebastian nodded, and pocketed the small box quickly. It wouldn’t do to have Greg catch him with it this early. Then he spotted Greg coming over with the waiter, and his heart leapt at the arousing sight of his lover in a smart suit and tie, and he grinned, standing to kiss him lightly. “You’re lucky we’re in a public place, or you wouldn’t have that suit on f’long,” he grinned, getting his seat for him.

They ordered, and got their food fairly quickly for a busy night, which might’ve very well been because of the 100 pound note that Sebastian had slipped the waiter. It was a lot, but well worth it. The wait for the dessert was the important part, and the shining look in Greg’s eyes was making it harder and harder for Sebastian to sit and wait.

Finally the time came, and the dessert wine was brought over, and as the waiter poured, Sebastian squeezed Greg’s hand, as they had held hands for most of the meal, and if not hands, then their feet had been touching under the tablecloth. He grinned at him, and the he spoke. “Remember th’ first time we came here?” “Yeah,” chuckled Greg, his grin just as wide. “You were so nervous. Never been on a date before. It ended fucking well though,” he admitted, thinking to the rough and passionate sex they’d had when they’d returned to Greg’s flat. Sebastian smiled as well, and then sat back in his chair, his free hand going to his pocket, and fiddled with the box. “I… I’ve thought a lot about that night. I just… this is one of our places, yeah?” he asked, his palm suddenly going a little sweaty. He knew deep down, even if he faked out and just demanded that Greg marry him, the older man wouldn’t laugh, but would readily agree, and probably shag him for it well into the night, but he wanted.. he needed to do this right.

Without another word, and ignoring the confusion on Greg’s face, he stood, and then quickly knelt in front of him, still holding his hand, as he pulled the box out. “I been thinkin’ hard,” he admitted, smiling up at him, as Greg’s face grew pale, and then red as realisation hit him. “Will you… I never thought I’d say this, t’anyone. Will y’marry me?” he asked, and then the panic set in.

What if he  _did_ say no?


	9. Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins of Emily Rose. At the adoption proceedings for the little girl - Bastian’s late.

Greg took his seat with their representative, and he couldn’t help the fidgeting of his fingers. They’d waited for two weeks while the Yard had done their best trying to find the parents of the still unnamed baby girl currently sleeping in the court day care, and today was the day, when Greg and Bastian were going to try to adopt her for good. He knew their case wasn’t the strongest, a older D.I. and his whore turned civil husband, but he hoped that no one would contest around them.

But where was ‘bastian? He sent another text to the man’s mobile. Number seven he’d sent since he woke up and Sebastian’s note told him he was going for his run. He wasn’t worried, figured he was on a job of some kind, but he hoped that Sebastian would remember their court date. After a few moments, there was no reply, and Greg tried to call him again. It rang four times and then went to voicemail.  “‘Bastian, you’d better get your fuc- your arse here now, we’re about to”

_-Bang, bang, bang.-_

The session was called to order, and, Greg sighed. They had even less of a chance to get to keep the child if one of them wasn’t here. The proceedings were slow going, and the judge began to ask Greg questions, and the older man did everything he could to stay focused. Just as the judge opened his mouth to ask another question, the back door was thrown open, and Sebastian rushed in, still tying his tie. “Sorry, y’Honour. Traffic was a bitch,” he said loudly, which caused a ripple of hushed laughter to course through the room. Sebastian took his seat next to Greg, and took Greg’s hand in his own, leaning in to kiss him briefly on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late, love,” he murmured, before turning his attention back to the judge.

The rest of the proceedings went quickly, with Sebastian joking through his answers, while still being sincere. He had every faith in Greg that Greg would be a fantastic father, and he hoped that he would do at least half as well. When they recessed, Greg pulled him into a side corridor and they were kissing roughly, their hands clutching at each other’s faces, until Greg pulled away. “You’re lucky we have to be back in court in a few minutes, or I’ld slap you so hard your face would be red for a week,” he said, glaring up at him. “Where the hell were you?” he asked, and Sebastian flinched. “Sorry, luv. I had a few things to fix up before I got here, and I lost track of time,” he explained, kissing his brow. “‘Sides, I think the judge’s warmed up t’me, even with the late entrance,” he grinned. “Look.. We’ve got her. She’s ours, I know it. You are too good for this judge t’say no,” he murmured, pulling him into an embrace. Greg sighed and buried his face into Sebastian’s shoulder. 

They stayed that way until the court was called back into session, and Greg and Sebastian went back in to take their seats. The verdict was slow in coming, and Sebastian thought his hand might lose circulation with how hard his husband was squeezing it. Then the gavel came down and Sebastian realised he’d missed the announcement, but then Greg was kissing him, and embracing him in the court, and there was polite applause from the small crowd. 

They’d officially adopted a little girl, and they were parents. 


	10. Greg through Sebastian's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apodyopis - The act of mentally undressing someone(written in Sebastian’s point of view)  
> [Funnily enough, this was written by Jude]

Christ. You are insufferable, you know that? In a good way, though. In the best way. I could just stare at you all day, just watch you do mundane things like clean up or brush your teeth. Stupid things. You move like you’re dancing; it’s funny, you pretend to be so rough and tough, but you move with this ridiculous grace, like your limbs are water. Your hips… Do you even realise how much you swing them just by walking? You’re always asking me what am I looking at and the answer is simple:  _you_.

I look at you from across the room and I can just imagine walking over to you, slipping onto your lap, my hands running through your hair and bringing my mouth down onto yours. I would slid my hands over your chest and unbutton your shirt- I don’t know why you’re wearing a button-up, but it’s in my way and it takes longer to remove then the shirts you usually wear. You probably did that on purpose, somehow knew this morning that’d I’d be sitting here in lust. You did it preemptively. You’re a bloody tease, you are. Where was I? Buttons. Each and every one of them. I’m impatient, but I hold back, do everything slowly becuse I want you to suffer as well. It’s best when we’re both so desperate it almost hurts because you usually grip me tight and take over and press me hard ahainst the floor and hold me there and—

Your shirt’s off now. Tossed to the side and I lean back, inspecting you. I always loved your chest. I never see you work out or anything, yet you always manage to keep your chest so defined. I like running my fingers over the muscles, my tongue over them, get close to your nipples but shy away. I like seeing that look in your eyes, the one that says that you trust me but you want me right then. Depends on the day whether you do something about my snail-like speed or not. I think today is one of those days when you let me do as I please. I bend, pressing my arse harder against you, and dip my head, my mouth coming down onto your chin, your neck, your shoulder, finally your chest. I’ve memorized what you look like, what you taste like, so I can imagine all of this. I run my tongue up over your right nipple and the noise that usually brings to your lips… hell. Most of the moans and gasps that you’ve made by this point have driven my mad but this one is different; it’s an almost hoarse, cut-off sound and I just want to do that again and again, see if I can make you cum just like that. But my imagination is moving on without me and my hands are at your belt.

I unhook it and loosen it, my mouth still dragging up your chest, reaching your collarbone. I’m moving slow because now this is a game. I like seeing how far I can push you. Sometimes you call me a minx and I think I like that. The button to your jeans is undone now and I can see the band of your pants as I shove your trousers down as far as I can in our sitting position, which isn’t very far, but for what I always had in mind, I didn’t need them to go very far. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this. I mean, you’re beautiful all the time, but… disheaveled like this, left panting against me, your hands gripping tight to either my waist by this point or the arms of the chair, whatever you were doing before I decided to invade your personal space left forgotten— this is primal. This is something else.

I swallow hard and stare at you across the room where you’re reading your damn paper and I give up. I stand up and slink over and instead of mentally undressing you, I get you pretty nude in real life.


End file.
